


your smiling eyes are just a mirror for the sun

by alienswamp



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Insomnia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, Self-Harm, Thorki cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 12:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienswamp/pseuds/alienswamp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki struggles with insomnia and the infinite nature of the universe.  No one but Thor can lull him to sleep.  </p><p>(scenes from the lives of two brothers coming of age.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	your smiling eyes are just a mirror for the sun

**Author's Note:**

> **content warnings:** sleep disturbances (sleep paralysis, nightmares, insomnia), depression, self-harming behaviors with knives, scratching, blood, mead consumption and Thorki cuddles

_I saw you there, so unaware,_

_those hummingbirds all in your hair_

_—_ Red Hot Chili Peppers, “Wet Sand”

 

The walls of Thor’s sleeping chambers are stone.  There is a chill in this corridor, on Loki’s side of the bed, while Thor dozes soundly in the heat of the fireplace. 

Loki shudders and wriggles atop the furs, staring upwards into the darkness, his mind filled with the dread of yet another sleepless night as the minutes drag on, turning into hours, and Loki _knows_ —sleep will not come easily tonight.

Next to him, Thor snores, snuggled deep into his wooly mammoth skin pillow.  The noise grates on Loki’s ears—another reminder that Thor is happy and relaxed while Loki faces his existential horrors.

He contemplates the branches of Yggdrasil and wonders if anything lies beyond the boundaries of the nine realms—if the universe ever ends, or if it even can?  And why is he stuck as _this_ Loki on Asgard, trapped inside a mind kept awake by the concept of infinite space.

Thor rolls over his sleep, pulling Loki toward his body.

Loki tenses in his brother’s strong arms, although he simultaneously craves the touch.  Why does everything have to feel so uncomfortable and wrong?  He wishes, above all, that he could be calm, asleep; instead he tenses and squirms.  Eventually he wriggles out of Thor’s grasp and slips out of bed—a part of him wishing his brother might rouse and join him on an adventure.

Thor only snores more loudly when Loki slips through the door, holding his furs wrapped around his body like a cloak.

He wanders the halls throughout the rest of the night, pacing up and down lost corridors, until his mind decides to let him rest.

~

Loki’s nails dig into his skin in his sleep again; his dreams are stressful and provide no break from the anxious thoughts he has when awake— _and he’s in an ice storm, a haze that will never end, because it is infinite, and it will take him thousands of years to reach his brother_ — 

“ _Brother, wake!  Whatever troubles you, it is only a dream.  Stop wailing!  We must get you to Eir!”_ Thor is saying, shaking Loki’s shoulders.  “ _You’ll wake up all of Asgard screaming like that!_ ” 

Loki feels his body being wrenched into the realm of consciousness, and he awakens, gasping for breath.

Thor’s bigger hands are grasping his own—and Loki understands that he has unconsciously given his brother cause to worry.  Under Loki’s fingernails is blood, and his scratched arms are bleeding onto the furs, forming into deep burgundy globules. 

Loki does not want to see Eir.  (He cannot bear the shame of another self-inflicted injury, even if done under the spell of sleep.  They would fuss.  He does not want them to fuss.)

He lets Thor hold him, too dazed to register his discomfort with the bodily contact.

~ 

Over breakfast, Sif taunts that the Odinson brothers “will never marry, because they are already married to each other.”  She went to wake Thor that morning and found Loki beside him in bed.

Thor defends the sleeping arrangement, questioning, “ _Why it should be wrong to lay with my brother beside me_?”—to which Volstagg and Sif burst into guffaws.

A few days later, Odin suggests that Thor and Loki have outgrown sharing a bed—lectures them that this is exactly why they now have separate rooms, because they are no longer children.

~ 

Loki discovers he has odd cravings—for frozen, raw meat, not the rich cuisine served at the dinner tables, along with the texture of crunchy ice cubes. 

“Chewing ice means you are sexually frustrated,” Fandral teases at the breakfast table, making Loki regret leaving his room.

Although he is healthy in the wintertime, the sun’s rays make Loki ill and irritable.  Thor basks in the summer months while Loki suffers delirious fevers.

After one embarrassing incident, in which Loki collapses during a sparring match, Frigga determines that he must do all of his training with her, and indoors.  But when he falls ill, she does not allow him to practice, insisting that he needs rest.

She casts healing spells, muttering in an ancient language, until Loki drifts uneasy drafts of sleep. 

~ 

“Why aren’t you outside, with all the others?” demands Loki when Thor appears in his chambers.  Loki can’t read properly; his illness has dulled his mind.  His book is closed, bookmarked at the start of a chapter about art in magic, and the curtains are drawn, but he can’t get to sleep. 

“Must you be so hostile to me?” says Thor.  “I wished to check on my little brother.”

“ _Did you_?” says Loki, lightly. 

“Oh, but of course!”  Thor cries.  He wastes no time getting into Loki’s bed and under the covers.  “I missed you during all of today, though I know you are not well enough to leave your room.  So of course I could only see you here. How are you feeling?”

“ _Swell._ I love fevers,” Loki hisses, rolling over so he is looking away from Thor.

“What have you been reading?” Thor says, and Loki regretted that his abandoned book served as a catalyst for Thor’s incessant small talk. 

“Things that would bore you.  Theories of magic.  Mother gave it to me.” 

“It won’t bore me.  You should tell me about it.”

Thor does, actually, get bored when Loki talks about magic—if only because Loki talks at length, at rapid-fire pace, and Thor cannot quite follow all the nuances.

~

“Do you think you could help me…with my studies?” Thor says, something in his voice unnaturally shy.

“I am sure that’s a lost cause,” Loki says with a smirk.   He has been feeling much better, and soon Frigga may allow him to come out of his room and work on his tricks.

“Don’t be an asshole,” Thor says.  Father has stressed to me the importance of knowing history, and—diplomacy—and insists I become proficient in those areas—and I will have an exam period soon—”

“And you’ve come to me?  None of your _friends_ wanted to study with you?” Loki is bitter that Thor spends time with his other friends.  Even though he doesn’t want to be around them, and the weather is still too warm for him. 

But Loki is nostalgic, perhaps, for a time when he and Thor were barely bigger than the tomes Loki stole from the archives—always wanting to research new ways to cause mischief, in books more complicated than he could quite understand.

So, there’s something sacred about bending over an enormous textbook together, as Loki leads Thor though a brief history of Odin’s and Bor’s reigns. 

In a momentary break from his serenity, Loki remembers to feel insulted that Odin gives so much care to Thor’s studies, grooming him to be the heir. 

Loki has always done well in his own studies.  Perfection, to him, is the only option, so he reads histories and theory books for hours on end, without food or sleep, until he is dizzy with exhaustion, so he can achieve top marks.  Yet still Odin rarely has anything to say about Loki’s marks either way, because he is the second son, least loved.

Thor is a voracious learner, much like Loki, yet he takes more time to absorb the information, and staying focused is difficult for him.

Thor’s other friends do not understand him the way Loki does, and that is why Loki thinks it is unfair that he must share his brother with them.

~

Loki half-awakens—body locked, frozen, and he cannot escape the weight of a figure with no eyes or face, only swirling dark matter.

Panic fills his chest.  This curse of frigidity will pass; Loki has been through this experience enough times, but the shadow-figure is heavy, and he is trapped underneath.

~

After a night of mead and Vanir herbs, Loki and Thor end up in Thor’s bed, Loki biting his brother’s neck, marking his brother as his own.

Thor whispers in Loki’s ear, brushing his hair aside, “I love you.”

And Loki is so drunk he has turned to despair **,** and he breaks down sobbing, because he doesn’t deserve to be loved by Thor.  This always happens, the _crying_ , and yet every time he lets Thor convince him he’ll have a good time drinking.  Loki is so sensitive to the mead, while Thor always seems to tolerate it fine.

Loki has come to suspect one-to-one intimacy.

Thor spends the rest of the night assuring Loki that _it’s okay_ , and it isn’t.

“ _Don’t leave me_ ,” Loki sobs into the pillow furs. 

“I’m _here_.  I’m not going anywhere.” 

Loki turns around and plants a wet kiss on Thor’s lips.  He has never kissed his brother on the mouth before. 

“ _Loki_ ,” Thor gasps.

But Loki wrenches himself away and cries more deeply.  "Do you hate me, Thor?" he chokes out.

And Thor tries to remind him he is loved, but nothing ever seems to be enough for Loki.  He is simply prone to bad nights.

~

Loki misses supper, locking himself in his bedroom.  He is not hungry, and although much time has passed, he has not recovered from the aftereffects of the mead.  Perhaps he is ill again—his mind feels cloudy, like it is full of thick fog, and he is so tired, he can only curl back into his furs. 

 A gentle knock on the door rouses him.

“ _Loki, dearest_ ,” croons Frigga’s voice.

“Leave me be,” moans Loki. “I do not wish to see anyone right now, Mother.”

“I could not help but worry that you missed dinner.  I feared you may be afflicted with another fever.”

“I only have so much studying to do, with the exam period coming soon,” Loki lies pathetically.

“Please, allow me to open your door.”

Frigga is polite to Loki about invading his privacy with her magic, but unashamed to ask him to open up to her.

Loki sighs.  If he could, he would use an illusion to appear normal to his mother, less disheveled, not wrapped his bed at suppertime, but quietly studying by candlelight.  Loki concentrates and conjures the scene.

“Please, Loki—be honest with me,” Frigga says.  She is never fooled by Loki’s illusions, but he so wishes he could hide his true self.  “ _Let down your walls_.” 

Frigga’s words are like a song, and the illusion falls apart easily, and Loki reveals his true form, moping in his bed, hair mussed, skin pallid. 

"Tell me what troubles you, my son," she begs.

 _I shared a bed with my brother, intimately, and then I cried all night, and now I he feel dreadful,_ Loki would tell his mother if he could.But he cannot.

~ 

Thor goes away on a hunting trip for days with Sif and the Warriors Three.  Loki is not inclined to join, as his skin is too fair to handle the sun, even shaded by the forest.  The idea of catching prey makes him drool, tearing meat from bones after a kill—but it wouldn’t be worth discomfort he would surely endure.  Loki cannot live without the luxuries of the castle and his library. 

The first night Thor is away, the sleeplessness eating at Loki’s brain is too much to bear alone.  Normally he would go to his brother’s room, provided Thor was not bedding Sif that night.  But Thor is gone.

Loki feels regretful, perhaps, that he has never cultivated many friends, as Thor has suggested might be beneficial and help Loki in his “darkened moods.” 

He needs his _Mother_ , so he tiptoes to his parents’ royal bedchamber. 

Odin is away on a trip to Vanaheimr.  Frigga is happy to have her baby sleep in bed with her.

 Loki curls into fetal position; Frigga rubs his back and strokes his hair. 

“What’s wrong with me?” Loki says.  “I am empty, yet exhausted.  My mind torments me, and my body is drained by it.”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Frigga says gently. “You are experiencing an affliction that is quite common to empathetic creatures like yourself.”

“But what is the affliction?”

“In Midgardian healing, melancholy is seen as a disease of the mind, not of the body.  The Aesir understand that the body and mind are the same.”

Loki doesn’t understand what this means—he still does not know what lives within him that makes him feel so broken.  Though it shames him, he can never resist having a good cry when his emotions overwhelm him.  He must learn to better control himself, to not be so _weak._ He wants to mask his true feelings, and he doesn’t want Mother to know how alone and lost and left out he feels.  He sobs harder at the very thought.

“Nothing about you is broken, my baby,” Frigga says, as though reading his mind.  “You must never doubt that I love you dearly—I would not be able to share my magic with you if we did not have the bond of mother and beloved child.”

After Loki responds with a long, torturous silence, Frigga asks him if they can practice tranquility spells together.   She says he will show him first.

“You must push out the dark energy of your mind, conjure it into a ball, and send it back into the branches of Yggdrasil—outside of yourself,” she says.  “Then, you use your newfound state of calm to cast an aura of tranquility.”

Loki feels his inhibitions lowering, as Frigga is casting the spell over him.  “I cannot do it,” he cries. “I miss my brother,” he admits, softly, and then he is too sleepy to mind that he said those things out loud.

“Separation has always been hard on you two,” says Frigga.

Maybe Loki will feel better when he wakes; maybe tomorrow, he won’t feel like he’s drowning, swallowing water into his lungs and gasping for air.

Frigga sends Loki to sleep, rubbing his back with soothing circles and letting her magic flow inside his veins.  He knows there is nothing left she can do to help him. 

~

Alone in his princely suite, Loki draws himself an icy bath, as he often does in times of distress.  The servants never question his request for ice; they follow his every command, terrified of floggings.  If Loki weren’t so caught up in his own head, perhaps he could bring himself to care about the plight over the lower class.

With the deep red bath curtains drawn, Loki carves runes into his forearms using one of his throwing knives.  These are ancient symbols for sleep, and he is forcing the magic into himself, letting the blood mix with the frigid water in the bathtub.

After drying himself, he wraps his wrists in cloth, and the night melts away.

~

When Thor returns, Loki is overcome with a desire to embrace his brother, though normally he shies from all touch.

Thor is invigorated by the thrill of the hunt; his cheeks rosier, his arms tanner.  “So affectionate, Loki,” he chortles.

“Shut up,” moans Loki.  “Stay in bed with me for days.”

“Of course, brother.  I am in need of a back massage,” Thor says, covertly grabbing Loki’s butt.

Loki smiles into Thor’s shoulder, because he loves sharing a secret with his brother that no one else in the hall knows.

~

The runes Loki carved into his skin are healing with magic, but the wounds he gives himself are always slow to fade.  Thor’s calloused hands massage the raised lines of Loki’s incision, and Loki pulls away.

“What are these?” Thor whispers. 

Loki doesn’t answer, only moving his own slender hands to feel all over Thor’s chest, then his back.  Thor, too, has his scars—wounds and bruises, mostly from sparring.  Loki’s injuries occur indoors, when he is left by himself and desperate for release and relaxation.

No more words are spoken that evening, only cries of pleasure. 

Thor is silent and strong, containing his moans so that they muffle into the pillows, while Loki cannot help crying out when he becomes overcome.  He hopes he does not wake the entire castle. 

~

Thor is golden like the sun—warm, open, inviting.  Loki lurks in his brother's shadow, growing pale and cold.  Loki wants to be a part of Thor’s world, but he closes himself off, again and again.   

~

Thor is brave, and Loki is full of fears.  He fears the dark of night, when he cannot find any rest.  Loki falls into the cavern of Thor’s arms, they fit into the spaces like puzzle pieces. 

In the bridge between wakefulness and dreaming, Loki squirms against Thor’s body, rubbing against his warmth.  Over time his consciousness fades, and he feels his twitchy body slowly stilling.

When Loki’s dreams are pleasant, he thinks about peaceful days with his brother, flopping in his bedroom.  Simultaneously, he is aware of the softness of the furs as he sinks into them.

If Loki has thousands of years to wile away in this infinite universe, he hopes he can spend them with his brother at his side.

**Author's Note:**

> title is from "road trippin'" by the red hot chili peppers.
> 
> all mistakes are my fault because i am too impatient to properly proofread, but will hopefully catch my errors in the morning! :)
> 
> huge thanks to [majikthise](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Majikthise/pseuds/Majikthise) for inspiring my writing and giving me ideas and supporting me.


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